Janet Stevens is one of the few illustrators during the 90’s who merged photography with another medium. To Market, To Market (1997) was the painter’s first experiment in such, and it not only became a best seller, it earned the Caldecott Honoree more awards and honors. The centuries-old nursery rhyme, To Market, To Market To Buy A Fat Pig, is given an enjoyable twist by author, Anne Miranda. After each trip to the market, a woman returns home with yet another animal who wreaks havoc in her kitchen. One last trek is made but this time for vegetables. Finally, the happy farm animals and a very exhausted woman enjoy a meal of vegetable soup, and readers (4-8) will be left satisfied too. The characters are painted in rich colors—full of heart and humor. Stevens’ black-and-white photographs of the market, the home and miscellaneous objects create an organized, ideal world that her characters crash through. ​

The fifties-looking Ideal Market is actually the market Stevens often shops at, and it was purely by chance that Stevens represented it photographically. Her market shots and those she took of her kitchen were only meant to act as reference materials for her paintings—taken with what she describes as her very unprofessional camera. But when she scanned and enlarged the black-and-white photographs to better see their details, she preferred them beside her characters. (Years later, Mo Willems would have a similar epiphany while making Knuffle Bunny: a Cautionary Tale.)

Stevens says using photographs took longer than painting the artwork in the traditional way, because it was all so new to her. Some might mistake Stevens’ illustrations for digital collage, but Stevens describes herself as pretty much computer illiterate at the time. By hand, the many product names captured in her images had to be obscured or renamed, and other brands were painted out completely. Ideal gave Stevens permission to use the images of the store and their signage, and everyone celebrated the book's release with an in-market, book signing. But creating it, she says, was difficult, and she shares with me how it all came together:

I painted the characters onto illustration board in acrylic paint, then traced around the painted forms on tracing paper. Next, I placed the tracing paper with the outline of the colored image on a light box then put the photocopy on top. I could see where the characters' outlines would be in relationship to the black and white background. Then I cut along the outline on the black and white print with an X-Acto knife. Then I was able to remove the exterior black and white surrounding background and glue it around the edges of the color painted image on the board. I also cut out small pieces of pots, pans, cans, and other objects from the B+W print and glued them on independently of the outline. I also skewed the backgrounds a bit by cutting and gluing them on in a lopsided way to create a more crazy feeling.

I asked Miranda if she was surprised by Janet’s results:

So, was I surprised…YES! I imagined a medieval setting for the story, with a young boy, a page, as the shopper. When I got the proofs, I nearly fell out of my chair. Not only was the art nothing like the movie going on in my head, the main character was the spitting image of my paternal grandmother. I thought Janet had psychic powers. I may have turned white. After getting over the shock, I must say, I fell in love with her illustrations…you can’t really tell how intricate and labor-intensive the illustrations are until you see one in the flesh…Brilliant.

The woman was actually modeled after Coleen Salley who was a renowned story teller and professor of children’s literature. Stevens sent Salley a disposable camera for a 90s version of selfies, and the painted character grew from there. With great admiration, she admits that at her New Orleans book signing on Salley’s home turf, more lined up for Salley’s signature than that of her own. (Salley went on to author many projects with Stevens as her illustrator.)

Today, Stevens’ passion is still painting. Photoshop makes her process easier, and photo elements still find their way into some of her many memorable projects (And the Dish Ran Away With The Spoon, My Big Dog, Find a Cow Now!, and Cook-a-Doodle-Doo!) For almost a decade, Stevens has partnered with another near and dear author, Susan Stevens Crummel. Enough of their books have come to market, to market to prove that when these sisters share a kitchen, they really cook.

Take away Mo Willems’ drawing tools and one can imagine him as distraught as Trixie is whenever she misplaces her beloved Knuffle Bunny (ka-nuffle.) Willems is a self-professed, dinner doodler known to share the results of his paper, tablecloth sketches via social media. Occasionally, a doodle moves on to become a more thought-out drawing. If it continues to inspire, Willems gives it a perfectly-odd world in which to play. Willems has six Emmys for writing and animation—all for his humorous drawings. Photography, for the most part, took place in his early days when he shot medical-textbook covers. Understandably, Willems is not an artist one would expect to have provided the genre of photographically-illustrated picture books with its glass-ceiling moment, but that is absolutely the case.

In 2005, the Caldecott was approaching its seventh decade of awarding children’s books yet had never acknowledged any illustrated with photographs. That all changed when Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale received their Honor Award. In 2008, a second nod and Honor was given to Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity. I asked Willems what it was like to have to have been the first photographer to receive a Caldecott Honor.

It's a tricky thing to strike a balance between knowing a genre and keeping a healthy ignorance of the trends within it. So I started the photo on cartoon style in Knuffle Bunny with a healthy ignorance of what had gone on before regarding photos and picture books.

Inspiration for the project came after a drawing of Willems’ fell onto a picture. He then used digital collage to combine his ink, hand-drawn, character cartoons with his digital photographs of Park Slope, Brooklyn. Willems colorized the drawings by computer and gave the pictures their sepia tone. The series, as well as Willems’ foray into photography, ended with Knuffle Bunny Free: an Unexpected Diversion. Knuffle is Dutch for cuddle and Willems is the son of Dutch immigrants. It seems fitting that in Free, Trixie leaves NY (a former Dutch Colony) to visit her grandparents in Holland. When Trixie returns to Brooklyn she is no longer a bunny-obsessed child but a girl eager to be selfless. A disdain for drawing backgrounds drew Willems to the Knuffle Bunny project, but things didn't go as planned..…as I worked with the pictures, I discovered that, unlike my forgiving eye, they did not edit out the ugliness of my neighborhood. Consequently, I had to spend quite a bit of time digitally removing air-conditioners, trash and garbage cans, so that the pictures could have the ‘emotional truth’ of my personal experience. It was technically challenging and created huge files, but ultimately made the story feel more real and handmade. (interview forBabble)

In Knuffle Bunny Too, Trixie accidentally swaps her bunny with a classmate’s. When neither child can sleep without their true Knuffle, Trixie drags her dad on a middle-of-the-night trek to make the swap. They pass Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza in a wonderful two-page image. For this wide shot, Willems reached out to his photography professor at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts. Tom Drysdale described to me their 3am shoot which took place atop Brooklyn’s Public Library.

I used a 4x5 Deardorff camera…We needed a very wide lens and I had an especially sharp 75mm Rodenstock Grandagon that was perfect for the job. The crazy coincidence was that the necessary exposure time of four seconds was exactly the same time as the "gap" in traffic circumnavigating Grand Army Plaza. We were able to make three negatives, and, as I was changing to a longer focal length lens for an alternate perspective, I heard Mo say, 'Oh, crap....they just turned off the flood lights on the (memorial) arch.' So...we were done. Happily, we got the picture.​Drysdale provided a little Where’s Waldo trivia as well. If you look at the far left side of the picture, you will see the Queen Elizabeth II miraculously captured between two buildings as she arrives into the New York Harbor—an example of how photography opened the door for some unimaginable surprises in the making of these fabulous books.​​

From The Secret Life of Squirrels, we now turn to the secrets of Dare Wright. Her life’s story and life’s work, when viewed together, are crazy interesting to say the least. Almost a dozen of Wright’s books (1957-1981) form The Lonely Doll series. It's in her first that a papa teddy bear adopts a lonely doll named, Edith. They and his teddy-bear son become a family, and the subsequent books share their many adventures. The series has, truly, captivating photographs and timeless covers which live in generations of childhood memories. Yet, legitimate concerns keep The Lonely Doll from remaining a children's bedtime staple. Successful women from all aspects of the art world--lifelong, Lonely Doll fans--shared their current conflicting feelings about the series with theThe New York Times . They described its gender stereotypes and parenting approach as uncomfortably out of step with their present beliefs. Understandably, any opinions on gender do’s and don’ts, vary and change with time and from person to the next. My book’s back-cover was once called sexist, because my character’s underwear was partially showing. In the image my character's locks of hair, unexpectedly, swirled in the wind, and, to me, the rest that formed the picture seemed normal, three-year old behavior. But with Wright, there was purpose and regularity as she posed Edith in short outfits and ruffled underwear—often bending over things. When Edith is bad, Wright even has her spanked, and this form of punishment appears in more than one book—not easily overlooked.

As for The Lonely Doll’s mood, it can be as grey or as dark as the tones of it’s black-and-white images. Edith’s world is a far cry from a Barbi-glass-half-full one. In a 2006 Boston Globeinterview, Wright’s biographer, Jean Nathan, sums up how The Lonely Doll gained such popularity :

Dare Wright knew exactly what kids care—and worry—about most—misbehaving. Breaking the rules. Wishing their parents wouldn't leave them home, and worrying they wont ever come back.​Before Wright got behind her Rolleiflex camera as a magazine, freelance photographer, she was modeling in front of one. Later, in creating her first book, Wright transformed her childhood doll into the model as she took on the part of photographer. Wright converted Edith from brunette to blonde and styled her as a young version of Wright’s adult self. Yet, Wright’s own model looks did not ensure happiness. Nathan’s,The Secret Life Of The Lonely Doll: The Search For Dare Wright (2004,) painstakingly documents her psychological baggage. Wright, a lonely girl herself, suffered parental and sibling separation. As a child, she was forced by her mother to live the lie that she had no father or brother—that Edie, was a widow and not a divorcée—and that Wright was her only child. Her mother Edie was a successful painter of aristocrats and statesmen, which, probably, helped develop Wright’s artistic eye. But the way Edie controlled the rest of her daughter's life stunted her maturation. As a result, Wright battled bulimia, anorexia, and later alcoholism. She showed little qualms about being nude in a photograph or on a beach, but when Wright's relationships reached the point of physical intimacy, she ran—sometimes literally. Though Wright was known to be charming, flirtatious, and often courted by men, she’s said to have remained a virgin almost till the end. Late in life, in a tragic turn, she was raped by one of the many Central Park drifters she often brought home for drinks and conversation.

The Secret Life well documents Wright’s main strength—her creative vision; she sewed and designed most of her characters’ clothes, styled their hair, applied the makeup, created its sets, photographed the images, and developed them all in her NYC apartment. For those curious, Nathan assured me everything known about Wright’s photography was included in her book. The only question remaining is what should become of the photographs today? Do we toss the doll out with the bathwater and never again open the books? With regard to children, it’s for those who guide them to decide whether to share them or not. But adults, one hopes, will continue to indulge in Wright’s art as part of her life's story. For us, it seems safe to do so without fear of succumbing to its many obvious flaws.

​Hear an interview with Jean Nathan.Three Lonely Doll books were re-issued in 2004. The rest can be found through second-hand dealers.

Recently, a leader of LA’s SCBWI Westside Writer’s group told me about a photographer named, Nancy Rose. Laurie said that all of Rose’s fictional tales featured real squirrels in images that were not photo manipulated. I immediately pictured the work of early-1900s-pre-Photoshop photographer, Harry Whittier Frees (a photographer to be discussed here soon). His subjects were fully-clothed animals - mostly kittens and puppies; I was sure I'd now see dressed-up squirrels.

Surprisingly, The Secret Life Of Squirrels and Merry Christmas, Squirrels! areactually quite different. Using a digital camera, Rose captures the natural curiosity of squirrels without capturing them; wild squirrels visit her hand-made sets, do as they please, and all while remaining outdoors in nothing but their own fur coats. Like a squirrel herself, Rose hides nuts in dioramas that, not only coax squirrels to search for them, but position the squirrels within Rose’s storyline; a squirrel might look as if it is doing laundry - pulling items out of the drier, but it is actually searching for a strategically placed nut. It can take 30, and in some cases, 100 shots to get the one image Rose wants. In the end, though, it’s a win-win-win; there are nuts for squirrels (and the occasional blue jay), pictures for Rose, and smiles for us.

Harry Wittier Frees got his book deal after a successful line of picture-post cards led to newspaper exposure. For Rose, almost exactly one century later, a viral Flickr post brought enough press to catch the attention of an agent. The images of both seem too incredible to achieve without any digital trickery. Thus, their images cause many to wonder, “how?” In fact, Rose is often asked if the squirrels are pets or stuffed. Unlike Frees, Rose lives in an age where it is easy to be open and share one's techniques. Rose's social media posts continually document her latest projects. Followers can see Rose create her dioramas out of wood, clay, toys and found objects from her home in Nova Scotia. They can watch as finished sets are placed on her outdoor deck, and then enjoy as very lively visitors are videoed and photographed coming to explore them.

Rose has said she only uses Photoshop to clone out nut shells that may result in her images, and to add texture to her backgrounds when needed. Caldecott honoree Mo Willems too reportedly removed small details like trash cans and “ugly” air conditioners for the neighborhood images in the Knuffle Bunny books. That got me thinking about an interview where Willems discussed having to remove the store signs as well. A major challenge to making a photographically-illustrated book is if permission is needed to use an image. When creating She Yelled. I Screamed…She Pulled my Hair!, I deleted logos and brand-related images from my daughters’ clothes . Since Rose has used so many miniatures, I asked her about this. She felt the lack of licensing issues contributed to why her publisher liked her homemade sets. In fact, she now avoids anything that is “labeled and branded” but adds:

​“The cool part about making my own props is that it shows a younger generation that you can make things yourself using recycled materials,​and I have received lots of photos of things kids have made, which I really love to see!” ​

I regret not asking Rose if she had the squirrels sign off on consent releases. I can just imagine Mr, Peanuts, The Secret Life’s biggest star, sitting in a Rose-made lawyer’s office negotiating his tough terms. Hopefully, Mr. Peanuts won’t be lawyering up anytime soon, and these books will remain available everywhere; they truly are enjoyable for all and likely to stand the test of time. ​​ Nancy Rose’s next book, The Secret Life of Squirrels: A Love Story, can be pre-ordered now and is due out in December 2016. ​​

“I wish that a fairy would wave a wand and transport me, for a month, into the animal world…I would think their thoughts, feel their feelings, fight their battles, and understand their language. I would live their joys and fears and their satisfactions…If this experience were possible to me, I think I would then be possessed of the beginnings of a real understanding of life.” -Foreword to Yilla's 1950 book Animals

Approximately 100 years after photography was introduced, Yille (EE-la) became one of the first mass-appeal wild-animal photographers as well as a pioneer in the field. The earliest animal photographs (1800s) were taken of animals that remained still for the 10-20 minutes needed to capture an image. Thus animal photos were of taxidermy: a stuffed stag placed “naturally” by a stream - a mounted cat beside a ball of yarn. But as exposure times decreased and cameras became portable, living, moving animals were easier to photograph. Not only were cameras improving, but magazine publishing was evolving as well. The advent of high-speed printing and rapid distribution allowed the 1930s to usher in the Golden Age of Photojournalism. Life magazine and it’s many image-driven competitors hired photographers like Ylla to fill their pages. Her photographs were so widely circulated that they made Ylla a world-renown animal photographer of her day.

Born Camilla Koffler, Ylla began her career by showing in galleries and as a pet-portrait photographer. Eventually, her photographs were used for ads, slice-of-life magazine pieces, science books and children's picture books. She began with domesticated-animal subjects, advanced to zoo animals, and peaked with wild-animal shoots in Africa and India. “…having worked only in zoos, I had a strong desire to photograph animals in native surroundings, whole herds of them; and to record something different from the portrait of an isolated animal in cage.”

Ylla cared deeply for animals and must have found her job morally challenging at times: she was seriously injured when attacked by a zoo panda, she observed the hunting of elephants and big cats, and she witnessed the trapping of white rhinos and elephants by zoo collectors. But her last assignment presented her with a challenge far too great. She was in India as a personal guest of the Maharajah of Mysore and documented her time there for seven months. In the spring of 1955, while photographing a bullock (bull) cart race, she fell from the hood of a slow-moving Jeep. Ylla landed in the path of the race and was fatally injured; she was only in her 40s and at the very peak of her career.

​Find it and Leaf through​for yourself!

With regard to her work in today's world, she may have described it best, “…when color film will be faster, when cameras will be more highly perfected and lighter-weight telephoto lenses with larger apertures will be available, and when the animals on the reservations, will have learned to be less distrustful of man, then I, or someone else, will be able to make photographs far superior…” Yet, in her day, she was superior. Photography 1839-1937was the Museum of Modern Art’s first photography exhibit and, at the time, the most comprehensive one ever held in the States. Its curator,Beaumont Newhall, was on a mission to have the medium accepted as an art form and to give the show's photographers, like Ylla, artist recognition. His exhibition was a huge success.

Over the course of her career, Ylla illustrated books with writers of science (L.S.B. Leakey and Julian Huxley) and those of literature (Jacques Prévert and Margaret Wise Brown to name a few.) The Two Little Bears, a picture book that she also penned, is a strong example of her work. In it, two cubs disobey their mother by going off alone to explore and play. When they lose their way, they rely on the help of forest and farm animals to reunite them with their mother. By the story's end, they are home, happy, and unlikely to disobey her in the future. Ylla, who as mentioned was attacked by a panda, seemed to have been undaunted by the size of the cubs' mother. Many shots were of this bear family in their natural environment. Some of the pictures of the cubs with other animals and on the cover, however, were of her own cubs that she bought, photographed and later gave to a zoo when they became too difficult to keep. There is little else to be found about her feelings relating to this decision.

The day Ylla died meant an end to her India journal entries. Her final thoughts regarding that cart race remain her own and a recent government ban on the races has been going back and forth in India's courts. Bull owners argue to keep their centuries-old tradition - one that brings much money; and animal groups want to permanently end the races they say are cruel and dangerous for the bulls. Had Ylla lived, after observing animals for decades, might she then have become a more active advocate for animal welfare? We will never know. But we do know that after witnessing an elephant hunt she wrote, “I do not understand the need in man to affirm himself heroically by killing.”

Two posthumously-released books with her photographs became their year's best sellers. There were comic books made of Ylla's life's story as well. However, her most lasting legacy may not be her photos alone. It may be the animal lovers her photos inspired, and Ylla's own life's tale - a life always in search of a "real understanding of life."

To learn more about Ylla, read her notes in her Animals in Africa and Animals in India ​books. Her godson, Pryor Dodge, shares much in this animalfair piece and on his own site as well.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll, was first published in 1865. It was illustrated by, Sir John Tenniel, a popular cartoonist at Brittain's Punch​ magazine. By 1907, the copyright expired opening the floodgates for hundreds of illustrators since to put their stamp on Carroll's words - some quite incredibly (i.e. Arthur Rackham.) In 1998, the first photographically-illustrated version of Alice’s Adventures was finally published by Dutton Children's Books. Abelardo Morell's photography has been exhibited in the finest museums, and he's best known for his camera obscura. In his version of Alice’s Adventures, he staged cutouts of Tenniel’s original illustrations within his own black-and-white photographs. Morrell changed Tenniel's black-and-white drawings to tones of gray ranging from black to white. Some Tenniel drawings were made into negative images, some repeated, some were combined with images from other pages to depict multiple ideas on one page, and many were left out completely. Between the use of cutouts and depth of field, Morell created what feels like a three-dimensional experience.

Morell said that traveling to Wonderland would be “much like that of walking across the pages of a story—like going deep into a book.” In his version of Alice's Adventures, real books abound. The rabbit hole is actually cut into and goes down the center of a book. Tenniel's rabbit is left slightly out of focus, while the rabbit hole that leads to where this story will take us, Morell keeps sharp. When Alice and Gryphon listen to the Mock Turtle’s tale, they sit - not on Tenniel’s drawn sand and rocks, but on stacks of books by the shore. The Mad Hatter’s tea table is a thick, tableclothed book as well. And as Alice grows after eating a mysterious cake, her hand is actually pushing out of a book that she is squashed inside of. Finally upright, she is taller than a stack of endless books and her cut-out casts her long shadow upon them all. These images are quite imaginative and stunning.

Lewis Carroll, born and known by his peers as, Charles Dodgson, was a praised pioneer in early photography. One would imagine that he would appreciate how Morell bridged Carroll's illustrator of choice with Dodgson's hobby of choice; photography. His only complaint might be with regard to the number of images Morell used. The story's lengthy poem, You Are Old, Father William, could better be served by, at least, one image (Tenniel had used three.) An additional image in the Pig and Pepper chapter - one depicting Alice holding the baby that has just turned into a pig, or of the crazed Dutchess, would surely be enjoyed. The Hatter, who is such a memorable character, seems deserving of more than one image as well. And when the Queen’s cards are painting the white roses red, and the croquet game is in full swing á la flamingo mallets and hedgehog balls, again, more images would lend support to Carroll’s tale. They would also maintain a modern feel throughout. Tenniel used 42 illustrations; here, Morell chose 19. While we are definitely left wanting more, thankfully, each Tenniel drawing is made "curiouser and curiouser” by Morell's imaginative touch. The real smoke and shadows in the photographs allow a playful darkness found in Carroll’s words to come to life. Morell's Alice is truly one of the best to date and one worthy of the story’s kingly decree: “Begin at the beginning,…and then go till you come to the end: then stop.” Morell's images may have you following this kingly advice many times over. ​This edition seems out of print, but is easily found through second-hand sellers.

Sir John Tenniel illustration from the first edition of Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865)

I discovered The Jaunts of Junior within Mus White's From the Mundane to the Magical and Beyond: Photographically Illustrated Children's Books 1854-1945. The image included in From the Mundane (Junior pulling a mouse's tale), struck me as an incredible photograph given Jaunt's 1911 year of publication. Thephotographer of Jaunts is Arthur B. Phelan. It is authored in verse by Lillian B. Hunt. The fact that Phelan is listed before Hunt, is quite telling. The photo-montage pictures tell the story better than words; in fact, they are the story.

This tale is similar to Tom Thumb. Junior, a boy "barely as high as your hand" visiting the "Big, Big Land," is having many adventures with things one would find in any house. While some of the verse may seem dated ("Junior lived in Weenyland...," "...he brushed them off like a man.,") the 23 full-page B&W photographs are incredible and remain enjoyable to all ages. Junior meets up with a house cat 5x his size, carries a butter knife twice his size to slice cake the size of a dining-room table. And as he runs across piano keys, his piano reflection keeps pace beside him. Upon its release, Jaunts sold for $1.25. Now, 100 years later, you can still find it second hand (or many hands later) for as little as $16. The cover alone is quite beautiful with red-floral embossing and gold-leaf embossed lettering. With each page, Phelan leaves us puzzling how the image was created, again, so early in the last century. The fact that you have landed on this page, makes you photo-curious enough to discover this book for yourself, and you should!

Here's to what I hope is the first of many posts about photographically- illustrated children's picture books. As I discover and learn about this small niche, I will try to do what my characters, Phoebe & Audrey, never seem able to do; share.

It seems fitting to begin with a wonderful book by Mus White. The bibliography, From the Mundane to the Magical : Photographically Illustrated Children's Books 1854-1945, makes no pretense about the impossibility of cataloguing every book from this period and admits to a focus on English-language titles. The 265 page book includes 24 pages of over 50 images (I still wish there were more!) White indexes the picture books by series (146), by title chronologically (over 1,300), and also by recognizable photographers à la Ansel Adams (who knew?). You will discover unknown artists, like Arthur B. Phelan and his The Jaunts of Junior which hasmind-blowing photo montages. I continually had to remind myself this was made in 1911 (Phelan's Jaunts will be the subject of my next post.) You will also find recognizable authors like Harry Whittier Frees with his bizarre, dressed up kittens, pups and bunnies, and Hans Christian Andersen. Photographers will appreciate White's descriptions of each book's photographic process and the chronological listing which allows one to see how photography has changed over the decades.

White chose to stop at the year 1945. She stated that this was the year television changed our world. I hope someone will create a follow up as there are certainly many wonderful titles since. From the Mundane to the Magical was at my local library and at second hand sites. Like the many books it catalogues, it too is out of print... yet, definitely worth finding.